


Patience

by Sizzle_It_Up_With_Punka



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Aftercare, Begging, Cock Rings, Come Eating, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Canon, Restraints, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 08:28:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20206732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sizzle_It_Up_With_Punka/pseuds/Sizzle_It_Up_With_Punka
Summary: Magnus Burnsides isn't patient by nature. But he'll do anything, even be patient, if it will make Julia proud.





	Patience

Patience has never been Magnus Burnsides’ strength. _Strength_ is his strength; strength, recklessness, a certain rustic charm, and the kind of stubbornness that inevitably gets him compared to oxen or bears. To all of those, yes. To patience, no. 

But here he is. Waiting. _Patiently_. 

It’s not without tremendous effort on his part. The tent is warm enough on this summertime night that he doesn’t need his shirt, but cool enough that if he’d been left to his own devices by now he would’ve stood up and retrieved it from its place folded on the chest by the door. The dirt floor is clean-swept and Julia made sure they chose an even spot clear of stones when they pitched the tent. There’s a couple of rugs, one close to the door and another spread under the table and chairs, and every few minutes he thinks about how much easier it would be to kneel there instead of right here where she told him to wait, where there’s only hard-packed earth under his knees. 

He could make himself more comfortable while he’s waiting, yes. But every time he’s tempted to fidget or move, relocate or put his shirt on, he thinks about the look in Julia’s eyes right before she left, when she bent down to kiss his hair and murmured _Now, don’t you move_ against his ear. 

He could make himself comfortable, yes, but he could also make Julia _proud_, and only one of those ideas makes a liquid hot sensation bubble up in his chest and pool in his belly, so here he is. Shirtless, on his knees. Waiting. Patiently. 

They don’t have a clock in the tent, the Rebellion is always ready to relocate on short notice and that means they brought nothing costly with them, nothing that they couldn’t abandon if they had to. So he has no idea how long he waits, except it’s long enough for his knees to get sore and long enough for him to count every individual triangle in the quilt that covers the bedroll and long enough for him to be losing his gods-damned mind a little bit thinking about what will happen when Julia comes back, and then the tent flap moves aside for a moment and there she is, and he goes a little breathless just seeing her, just like always. 

Julia turns her back on him as soon as she steps into the tent, hangs her satchel from its hook and takes her time tying the laces of the door, making sure nobody can burst in on them. Their tent is off a little way from the rest of the encampment, privacy being one of the perks of their shared leadership. Some days that perk doesn’t seem like enough to outweigh the burdens that come with the job, and days like that have been building up lately until Magnus can feel the weight of them pressing on him between his shoulder blades. The need for constant decision, constant action, the demand for him to be always rushing in. Days like that are why he _needs_ nights like this. 

Julia turns, finally. Gods, she's so beautiful, dark curls in a corona around her face, skin like walnut heartwood, burnished til it glows. She smiles at him fondly as she steps forward. "Oh, look at you." There's warmth in her tone, in her eyes, that makes Magnus suddenly warm in response. Like Julia is the sun, shining now only on him.

She runs her fingers through his curls and cups his head in her hand, brushing her thumb against his sideburn. "Did you miss me?" 

Magnus makes a strangled kind of laughing sound, hands twitching against his folded legs, leaning into her touch hungrily. "Dumb question."

"Mmmm." Julia bends down to kiss him, slow and sweet, and part of him wants so very fucking badly to reach up and tangle his hands in her hair, surge to his feet and wrap his arms around her, carry her laughing to the bed . . .

No, this isn't that kind of night. This is one of the nights he lets go of deciding to rush in, lets Julia see how patient he can be. He makes a slight involuntary noise against her mouth and she laughs gently and pulls away. "You're being _so_ good for me right now."

"Nnnnnngh." The praise goes straight to his groin via some process he can't decipher and doesn't try to. "Doin' my best."

"You always do your best for me." Julia's tone is light, teasing, a little wicked, because she _knows_ how quick that kind of thing undoes his composure. She straightens up and stretches her arms above her head, showing off. "Do you want to see what I went out for?"

Magnus wants to see anything and everything she has to show him, and he nods. Julia smirks and turns lightly on her heel, goes to sit on the chest at the door and unlaces her boots. "I had Kamren make them special," she says conversationally as she slips off one boot, then the other, pulls her stockings off and curls her bare feet into the rug. She takes her time doing all of it, and Magnus, Magnus just watches her, tries and fails not to fantasize about nights she has let him do that for her.

Her hand slips into the satchel and withdraws again. Magnus catches the dull gleam of lantern light on burnished metal. Jules steps lightly over to stand over him, and he cranes his neck to see what it is she's got. Cuffs. Leather ones, sturdy and broad, with brass buckles and small hoops and fastenings by which they can be joined. Something explodes behind his eyes, white-hot as a forge, and Magnus licks his dry lips as he feels his cock jump in his breeches. 

"I know how hard you have to try sometimes to be patient for me." Julia purrs. She holds out the cuffs and arches a thick dark eyebrow. "Do you think this would help?"

Fuck, how can he answer when he's forgotten how words work? Magnus nods hungrily and then, anxious to prove the point, he lifts his hands and offers her his wrists, already pressed close together like she's long since bound him. 

Her breath catches a little and she smiles at him, bends over his head and kisses his hair, stroking his shoulders. "That looks like a yes."

Yes, _please_.” He manages. His hand moves of its own volition and rests lightly on the back of her bare calf. 

Julia _tsks_ lightly but she doesn’t actually scold him, she just gestures for him to stand. He wants to scramble to his feet as quickly as possible but he doesn’t, he rises like someone who can wait for what he wants. Julia smiles like sunrise and pulls him close for just a moment, kisses him deep and rubs her fingers through the curling auburn hair on his chest. Magnus rumbles with pleasure, leans into her and savors every perfect moment of her lips on his. 

She nips his lower lip when she pulls away and then she steps back, out of reach. The difference in warmth is _noticeable_. Magnus shivers and takes a deep breath. Julia reaches for his wrist and he gives it to her without hesitation, fixes his eyes on her face as she clasps the cuff, tightens it until it’s snug. She kisses his palm before she steps around behind him and repeats the motion on his other wrist. 

He’s had his wrists restrained before, he realizes, though he can’t put a memory together to go with the familiarity of the sensation. That used to happen to him almost daily, before Jules. Now it’s just a little nagging moment like deja vu, here and gone, swallowed up in the present.

She clips the cuffs together behind him, runs her fingernails lightly along his upper back and shoulders until he’s shivering under her touch. “Good?” 

Magnus huffs out a breath. “Yeah. Real good.” 

He can hear the smile in her voice as she leans forward and brushes her lips against his ear. Magnus hears a faint jingle and Julia reaches forward so her hand is in his field of vision. “I had him make one more thing.”

For a second Magnus can’t quite figure out what it’s for, too small to be another restraint for his . . . oh. _Oh._

“Let me try it on you?” Julia’s fingers tease along the waistband of his breeches, tangle in the ties. 

Magnus chokes. “Oh my gods.” He can feel his cock stir, and he nods rapidly in response to Julia’s question. 

She kisses the side of his neck and undoes the ties on his breeches, letting them drop and pool around his ankles. Julia’s hands guide him forward a step, and then she’s stepping around him and sinking to her knees in front of him. Magnus has to close his eyes and breathe deep to keep from reaching out and touching her, from rushing in yet again. Her fingers ghost over the skin of his inner thighs, spread his legs apart, trace themselves over the top of his cock. He jumps in spite of himself, and she makes a gentle noise and strokes his hip until he calms. Then she goes right back to handling his cock and balls, wrapping the leather strap around the base of them and pulling it snug.

If he had his hands free he’d shove one of them into his mouth and bite down to stifle the drawn-out noise he makes. It’s so incredibly hot that for a moment he can hardly bear it. 

Julia laughs at him and kisses the inside of his thigh before she stands up, trailing a hand up over his hip and side, cupping his cheek. “Gods, you’re beautiful.” She drops her hand to his shoulder and pushes him down gently, and Magnus follows the motion, lowering himself until he’s kneeling again. He gazes up at her, flushed and short of breath. The strap around his cock and balls isn’t painful, but it’s absolutely noticeable, makes every single sensation seem amplified. 

“Mmm. I love that.” Julia touches her fingertips to her lips, smiling. Her eyes are liquid, hungry, but they crinkle at the edges teasingly. “How long do you think I should leave you there?” 

Magnus groans and drops his head for a second. “Fantasy _Christ_, Jules.”

“Uh-uh. Eyes up here." She laughs and steps back, moving her hands to the ties on her bodice. “You look so, so good like that, babe.” She loosens the garment, draws it down slowly over her arms and shoulders and drops it to the floor. “So beautiful for me." Her skirt follows the bodice, leaving her in only her chemise and jumps, and she runs her hands idly over her body as she speaks. "Like what you see?"

Magnus's pulse is hammering, his shoulders just starting to ache sweetly from the tension of his bound wrists. "Gods, yes, Julia, you know I do."

"Yeah?" She steps back and drapes herself into one of the wooden chairs, drawing up the hem of her chemise to show a glimpse of the dark hair between her thighs. "I bet you want to show me how much."

Magnus is shuffling forward before she even finishes saying it, but she makes a sharp noise and holds up her hand. "I didn't say anything about what you get to do, mister. Just what I know you want." Her voice drops to a purr and her fingers -- Magnus groans as Julia slips her fingers between her legs and starts stroking herself lazily. "You want to taste me."

Magnus nods shakily. 

"Use your words, gorgeous."

It takes him a second, because he's too fixated on the way her fingers move, how her legs drop open loosely so he can see her tracing the slick folds of her labia. "I want to taste you, Julia."

"Mmm. I bet." Julia lifts her fingers to her mouth and sucks them languidly, staring him in the eye. "You want to fuck me, Magnus? You want to make me come for you?"

"I --" Fuck, yes, he wants that, he can feel the desire to do that throbbing through him. But. He takes a raggedy breath and remembers what kind of night it is, what he's doing here with his arms and his cock bound in leather at her feet. His voice drops to a choked murmur. "I. I want to be good for you, Jules."

"Ohhhhh." She lets out a long, satisfied sigh and her fingers speed up. "You do, huh? You think you can be patient for me?"

He whines a little, stung because he expected that to be enough for her to let him move, but he nods, watching her face as she works her fingers hard against her clit. "Yes. Yes, I can be patient. Please, let me just . . ." Gods, she's just _right there_ and he wants wants wants . . .

Julia shudders and comes abruptly, leaning back until the chair creaks, and Magnus shudders. His cock is swollen, the leather strap no longer merely noticeable but impossible to ignore. He shifts his thighs, trying to find some kind of position where it's less imposing, but nothing helps.

Julia sighs happily and holds out her slicked fingers. "All right, big guy. You can have a taste now."

Something in his chest thumps painfully and he scrambles to close the gap, leans forward and laps at her fingers like a terrier. He cleans every trace of her wetness off of them, replaces it with the wet touch of his tongue, and then leans forward and lays his head against her knee. Waiting. Patient.

Julia hums happily and sinks her fingers into his hair, tugging gently. "That was hard, I know. But you did _such_ a good job. You're a good boy for me, aren't you?"

"For you." He echoes into the white muslin of her chemise, closing his eyes. The praise makes him harder than ever, swelling and straining against the leather band. He freezes when she shifts her foot and rests her instep lightly again his throbbing cock. 

"Ooof, you poor thing." Julia shifts, draws the foot away and spreads her knees, tightens her hand in his hair and guides his face forwards into the damp curls at her center. Her voice is honeyed and soothing. "Go ahead and have a treat."

Magnus chokes out a gasp that is nearly a sob and buries his mouth against her cunt, lapping and sucking the slick she's covered in from bringing herself off. He probes her entrance with his tongue, tries to lift a hand to use his fingers before the cuffs catch him and fuck, that's good, it makes him moan into her, shuddering in pleasure. 

He tries to take his time, make it good for her, draw out the pleasure this time instead of the hard, fast climax she gave herself. His tongue and jaw begin to ache a little, more sensation that builds on the ones in his shoulders and knees and his aching, weeping cock. She arches so sweetly above him, shifts and shudders, nails against his scalp while she murmurs.

"So good, you're such a good boy with that sweet fucking mouth . . ."

Eventually she goes rigid above him, fingers tightening in his hair until his eyes water, and he keeps going, draws long flat strokes against her until she pushes him away with a sweet sigh. "You're so good at that." She bends down to kiss him, tongue slipping into his mouth, and he shivers with pleasure knowing she's tasting herself.

Julia draws back and stands up, makes quick work of the rest of her garments and reaches down to grasp his chin in a gentle hand. Magnus follows her gesture as she draws him to his feet and presses herself against him, kissing him hard and hot. Her fingers stray south and he makes a hungry, desperate noise as she wraps them loosely around his shaft. "Still okay?"

He takes a huge shuddering breath and tries to marshal his thoughts from the white-hot buzzing place they've spread out into. Focuses on the sensation in his groin, judges for a second if it's too much or _too much_, and then nods tersely. "Yeah. Okay."

"Good." She squeezes just once, gently, and then she lets him go and slips her arms behind his back. "I'm going to move these cuffs in front, now. Don't want you hurting yourself."

When she's done that she hooks her fingers around the link between the cuffs and leads him to the bedroll, and he follows her without hesitation, lets her push him down onto his back. His breath is coming in short bursts now, his skin flushed, and he feels the wet touch where his cock leaks precum against his belly. 

Julia stands over him, rolling one of her nipples idly between her fingertips. "When we get home I'm going to make sure we can use the headboard for this," she says warmly, and Magnus groans and arches up against nothing for a moment at the images that conjures up in his mind. She sinks down onto the blankets at his side and takes the cuffs in hand, guides his arms up above his head and pins them there while she sucks a line of wet bruises into his neck. Magnus whines and wriggles, fists his hands in the quilt. 

"Think you can keep those there for me, good boy?" She asks, smiling against his skin.

Magnus swallows hard. It's a big ask, he's already so fucking worked up that he can't see straight and the idea of controlling his position when she's doing . . . _things_ is daunting, but he wants to show her he can do it, he can be good, he can be patient. "I'll try." He says huskily. "I'll do my best."

"Oh, Magnus." Julia kisses her way across his collarbone, down his chest, scrapes her nails across his nipples until he whines low in his throat. "Of course you will."

He shudders as she moves lower, until her breath is hot against the curls of his pubic hair. "Jules . . . nnnn . . . I'm gonna come if you do --" He breaks off with a cry as she licks a line from the strap around his balls to the head of his cock.

"No," She says firmly, tapping her fingers feather-light across his sack until he squirms, "You're going to wait until I say you can, like a good boy."

Magnus makes a sobbing sound as she keeps touching him, sometimes light, sometimes just shy of too firm, never enough friction to do anything but trace explosions of feeling across his throbbing hard member. He bucks his hips, whines, twists his head from side to side and Julia picks up the pace, changes the length and the pressure of her touches until he feels himself building . . .

She takes her hand away. He chokes and digs the blunt nails of one hand into his palm, shaking, somehow miraculously still holding the position she put him in. "Breathe, sweetheart," Julia says, and he does, raggedly, until he feels the climax receding. He's still so rock-hard it aches, though, flushed and shivery. 

"Good," Julia murmurs, stroking his arms and his chest, and then she's on him again but _gods almighty_ she uses her mouth this time, licking and sucking and nipping at the swollen skin of his ballsack while he keens and shakes and tries with every single atom of will he has to keep his arms still and keep himself from coming before she gives him permission.

Julia pulls away again, lets him come down juuuuuust enough before she goes back to it. Magnus is just straight up panting now, whining on the exhales, sometimes managing an incoherent noise that might, just barely, be recognizable as her name.

"Mmmmm." Julia makes a sinful noise as she swipes the tip of her tongue over his slit one more time, sitting back on her heels. Magnus turns his head and stares at her, pupils blown, mouth slack. He trembles as he watches her, reverent and breathless.

She shifts until she's straddling him, holding herself out of his reach, and he follows her with his eyes. Perfect, she is perfect, he never wants anything else again in his life except her, always, forever.

She locks eyes with him and lowers herself onto him an agonizing, teasing millimeter at a time. Magnus sees stars, loses himself totally in the sensation of her wet perfect heat stretching around his swollen cock until he's buried in her. He draws in a gasping breath and cranes his neck so he can see it, the leather nestling in her dark hair, and oh, fuck, oh, fuck, he almost comes right then and there.

Julia must be able to tell because she reaches out and makes a gentling noise, cups his cheek in her hand. "Breathe."

Breathing is impossible but Julia wants him to breathe so he does, somehow, until he's settled again into the trembling, aching space where he can keep himself from coming. She coos and strokes his cheek and rocks her hips just a tiny fraction of an inch. "So perfect. So patient."

She lifts her hand to her breast and pinches her nipple, drops the other down to circle her clit with a fingertip. "Go ahead, gorgeous." Her voice is heavy with lust. "Let me hear you say it now."

Magnus makes a desperate noise, barely manages to get the words out. "I'm your good boy."

"Mmmmmm." She rewards him with another motion, just as tiny as the last. He's on fire, he's going to die right here like this in permanent suspended anguish. "How were you good for me tonight?"

"I, uh." Focus, focus, she wants his voice so he has to bring it back from wherever it flies off to. "I waited. I was patient for you. And I made -- nnngghh . . ." She's moving now, painfully slow but steady. Lifts herself and lowers herself on him in a long, glacial motion. "Made you feel good."

"_So_ good," She agrees, and Magnus feels something like an electric charge across his skin. "What else?"

"I didn't come." It comes out as a long, sobbing groan. He can't stand it, it's too much too much too much.

"Uh-huh." Julia bites her lip and sinks down onto him again, still too slow to be anything but torturous. "You did very, very good. I'm so proud." Her voice drops low and heated, "Should I let you come now, Magnus?"

He can't make the word come out, but he tilts his hips against her and looks at her pleadingly and mouths it, _please_.

Julia raises her hips and . . . oh, gods, and stops moving, holds herself above him without touching. "You have to ask nicely, sweetheart. You know that."

His hips buck once, totally involuntary, and it bursts out of him in a desperate, tearful babble. "Please, Julia, please, let me come I was good I was _so good_ I'm always good for you, Julia _please_ . . ."

"Okay." She moves herself down in a single fluid motion, takes him to the hilt, and Magnus cries out. Julia rocks her hips, hard and steady this time, and leans down to kiss him deep, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. 

She pulls back just enough to say "Come for me, big guy," and the climax rips itself out of him with a force that leaves him unable to breathe or think or do anything but feel. The world bursts apart into swirls of color and sensation and Magnus would be lost forever in it if it weren't for _her_, Julia is the bright hot center of the universe and he'll never be lost when he's with her, inside her like this, sobbing her name while he rocks up against her until there's nothing left for him to give.

Julia rides him until he comes down from the high, murmuring praise and stroking his chest. When he stills she kisses him again, pulls herself off him and moves, turns around so she's facing the other way, with her knees straddling his head. "Good boy." She says, lowering herself to him, "Now clean up after yourself."

The heat of her body on his face is like the warmth of the best summer day, and he swallows hard and lifts his mouth to meet the wet, swollen center of her. The taste bursts on his tongue, salty and bitter, in any other situation it would make him gag and pull away but not here, not now.

Julia moans and shivers as he puts his tongue to work, laving away the taste of himself from her thighs and lips, and then her hands are on him and the strap loosens and pulls away and the shock of it, the bolt of sensation, makes him buck and gasp against her. Magnus feels her slip her fingers down to circle her clit and he matches her pace with his tongue, delving into her to lap the cum out, swallowing it greedily. 

Julia calls his name when she comes, her walls spasming around his tongue, and every single part of his being lights up with the tingling heat of adoration, with pride that he, Magnus, is the only one she allows the privilege of making her feel this good. He laps her clean as she softens and relaxes, and only when she pulls away does he let himself stop. Even then he gazes up at her, breathless and spent and so, _so_ fucking in love with her.

Julia sighs contently and bends over him for one more kiss, long and slow and lingering, the taste of both of them mingled still on Magnus's tongue. Then she stands and moves away for a minute, comes back with the water skin and a scrap of soft flannel.

"Here, sweetheart." She holds the skin to Magnus's lips and he drinks long and deep, feeling boneless and mellow and warm, like he's kind of melted away from himself.

When he's finished Julia takes the water skin away and strokes his chest for a moment before she reaches up and unclips the cuffs from each other, guides his arms back down to his sides. Magnus makes a faint noise of protest when she starts to unbuckle the first cuff.

"Can I." He licks his lips, feeling pleasantly fuzzy, "Can you leave them for a little bit?"

Julia checks the edge where leather meets skin, nods and kisses the tender stretch of his inner forearm before she sets his hand down again. "Guess that was a good decision, huh?"

Magnus makes a vague noise of agreement and lets himself drift while Julia checks him to make sure the strap didn't do any damage, while she wets the flannel with water and cleans his chin and cheeks and genitals. He moves reluctantly so she can draw the quilt back and then she slots herself into the space next to him, pulling the quilt over both of them.

Magnus makes what feels like a great effort and rolls over on his side, fits his head into the hollow of her shoulder where it feels like it was made to rest, wraps his arm around her ribcage so he can feel her breathe. Nowhere else in the world fits him like this space right here.

Julia tucks her chin on top of his head, stroking his back in long, slow motions. "Good boy." She whispers, warm and safe and _home_.

"Yours." He mumbles into the perfect soft slope of her collarbone. "Only yours, Jules, always."

"Always." She promises, and then kisses the sweat-dampened curls near his forehead. "Get some rest now, gorgeous. You earned it."

He did, and so he does.


End file.
